Freezing Point
by An Author's Pen
Summary: I captured a god. I did it to prove a point. I did it because I could.
1. CHILL

Part One - Chill

* * *

At six in the morning, I dragged myself down to the motel's common room and tried to eat a hearty breakfast. It was no use. The toast tasted like crunchy ash in my mouth.

I sighed and put down the slice, realizing that my hands were shaking.

"Koal," Chester said mournfully. A smile found its way onto my face as I looked down at my torkoal. He was halfway through his bowl of coal and pokemunch.

"Don't worry, Ches," I said. "I'm fine."

The weather had hit -30 F, an unusually high temperature for Yakuto in late January. I wasn't likely to get a better chance, and if I waited much longer I might miss my chance altogether.

A decade of preparation and an old dream had brought me to this point. Today, I meant to capture a god.

A pokewatcher's online account had directed me to Yakuto, this town known for its record low temperatures. She'd claimed to have seen the god in these very mountains. In her blog post she had included a hastily-drawn sketch, colored in with smudges of blue and silver. Last night, as I lay in bed, on the verge of uneasy sleep, her words had echoed in my mind:

 _I have seen many beautiful sights in my years as a pokewatcher. Without a doubt, Articuno was the most beautiful_.

"It's going to be cold up there, Ches," I said aloud. "Colder than it's been these last few days. I still think you should stay here."

"Torkoal," Chester said firmly. I looked into his stubborn eyes and sighed again. Chester has always been there when I needed him most. I can't think of anything that I could deny him.

"Fine, but the second we dip below -50 you are getting back in your ball."

"Tor," he said agreeably. Then he gave my unfinished food a meaningful glance.

He was right. I had worked for this for too long to make the mistake of an empty stomach.

I bent back over my food, shoveling the lukewarm rice into my mouth. When I looked up again I saw that I had company. The men who would guide my mountain ascent were standing at the entrance of the small dining room, their cheeks deeply pinked from the outside air.

I swallowed a final mouthful and pushed away my bowl. "Time to go?" I asked them.

"Yes," one of them said. I was pretty sure his name was Vadim. He was scowling under his great beard.

When I'd first come to Yakuto, the villagers had been happy to tell me stories about the Winter God, icy Articuno. But gradually they had begun to understand my intention. Then the smiles had soured, and open doors had been closed. If these men had their choice, I think they would have refused to take me up the mountain. But even at the end of the world, money talked.

 _They'll_ _take me_ , I thought now, looking at their faces, _but that doesn't_ _mean they'll_ _like it_.

It took fifteen minutes before they pronounced me ready to go. I'd assembled my gear three days ago: the thermic layers, ice shoes, thick face mask. With all of it on I was sweltering inside the well-heated inn. I wore my pokeballs on a strap across my chest, easy to access when one moment's hesitation might be fatal.

The first part of the journey would be simple. Their trained skarmory could bring me up to the base of the mountain's peak. From there I would have to continue on foot. The winds that circled the peak were too fierce even for skarmory.

From all the folk-tales and hearsay I'd collected, Articuno dwelt on Mt. Kimbara's peak at this time of year.

Well. I was about to find out.

"Time to be off then," I said, amazed to find my voice steady. The door to the inn slammed shut behind us, its last breath of warmth stolen by the wind.

.

.

Vadim and his crew dropped me at the peak's base, staying only long enough to make sure that my gear was functional and my clothing was still properly in place. They didn't want my death on their conscience – but neither did they want me to succeed.

As I sent out Peesha, my mamoswine, I pondered blasphemy. We call them gods, these pokemon of myth and legend, but they are not gods. They are tangible, corporeal. They are still pokemon.

I know that better than most.

As we climbed the peak, the snow came up to Peesha's nose, forcing her to swing her giant tusks back and forth to clear a path. I let Chester out (my gauge read -46) and he expelled a great wave of heat, melting the snow in front of us. The local Xatu had foretold clear skies, but I have a healthy skepticism for prophecy. I worried that at any moment the skies would cloud over and a blizzard would make the narrow trail impassible. But so far we were lucky: there was no storm.

We trudged on for ninety minutes, slowly ascending. Chester was back in his ball, and Peesha was too focused on her task to make good company. I didn't mind, though. The cold was brutal, and even the thought of conversation exhausted me.

I checked my altimeter. We were high enough. It was time for the next step.

I released a pokeball, and Sorok emerged into the snow. The lucario was not mine. My friend Alana had lent him to me when I explained I needed a pokemon that could sense aura. I thought of Alana for a moment. It seemed laughable, out here in this barren wasteland, to remember the friends I'd made battling in sunny tournaments.

"Sorok," I said. "Please tell me what you sense. Articuno should feel like no being you've ever felt before."

Sorok knelt on the icy ground, his ears going flat. The cold didn't seem to bother him, and I felt grateful for the stroke of fortune that was the aura pokemon's resistance to ice.

As I waited in the snow, my thoughts began to wander. I remembered the first time I'd seen a picture of Articuno as a very young child. The picture – life-size, they said – jumped out at me. I had gasped, sure that the image was reality, that this unreal pokemon was truly staring at me, sharp red eyes that pierced me to the core.

"Lu!"

I shook myself out of my reflections at Lucario's exclamation. "You found her?" I asked, adrenaline warming my body.

Sorok nodded.

"Show me the way," I said. He took off at a loping run that Peesha struggled to follow.

It was a full forty minutes before he stopped. We had come to the opening of a natural cavern. The entrance was blocked by boulders and sheets of ice, but Sorok broke through easily with a powerful focus punch.

Before entering, I recalled Peesha. The way looked narrow and it would be better to go on foot.

The passage was iced over and I slipped several times as I made my way down it. The air around me was absolutely frigid. The tunnel let out into a wide cavern that opened to the sky. Perched on a tall rock was a sight that pummeled the breath from my body: Articuno, in all her rapturous glory.

No painting could have done her justice. Each tightly corded muscle brimmed with power. Her slightest motion was an act of seamless grace. I stood transfixed as she looked at me, her red eyes keen and as piercing as the icy wind.

Finally, I remembered myself. In a practiced movement, I released three of my pokemon almost simultaneously – Lunatone, Metagross, and Magnezone.

I didn't have to give them any commands. We'd rehearsed this for long enough.

Metagross and Magnezone rose to either side of Articuno. The cross on Metagross' chest began to glow an unearthly blue as he summoned a powerful psychic attack. The blue energy surrounded Articuno. Hopefully it would hold her in place.

I wasn't cold anymore. The adrenaline sparking through my body made me feel as if I were on fire.

Articuno has begun to resist Metagross' psychic. She beat her wings powerfully, fighting his hold, sending Metagross plummeting down and up in time with the beating of her wings.

"Magnezone!" I shouted. Electricity covered Articuno, a sticky static electricity that I hoped would paralyze her.

Articuno's movements grew more clumsy, but she was still mobile. In the corner of my eye, I saw Magnezone adjusting its aim. "Now!" I cried. Magnezone let loose a staggering bolt of electricity.

Articuno let out a high, clear cry. The beauty of the sound was so great that I forgot for a moment where I was and what I was doing.

Articuno brought down her wings and suddenly we were surrounded by a blizzard, the air white with whirling snow. "Don't let up!" I shouted, though the snow was too thick for my voice to carry.

But I'd been expecting this.

I released my secret weapon into my arms, where I cradled her against the wind. She was a castform, the only benefit I'd ever gotten from my mother's fame as a meteorologist. "Clear the skies," I told her.

The little pokemon squeezed her eyes shut. Her body began to tremble, and I feared she did not have enough power to stand up against this blizzard of a god.

But slowly, slowly, the snow began to disperse. I was able to make out Metagross and Magnezone, still afloat. The cold had not been deep enough to penetrate their steely bodies. Articuno was still there. She was panting now, exhausted by the effort of calling up the blizzard. But my pokemon were exhausted too.

It was time to end this.

"Lunatone," I said shakily, too low to be heard, but Lunatone knew what I wanted. It flew directly in front of Articuno, its eyes glowing a hypnotic red.

For a long moment the two stared at each other. Articuno's eyes were questioning, and despite her labored breathing their arrogance was undimmed. Then, slowly, Articuno's eyelids lowered and the beating of her wings slowed. Metagross cushioned her fall with his psychic, laying her to rest gently on the snow.

My hands were shaking so much that I almost couldn't hold the pokeball. And they shook as the pokeball shook, back and forth, like the frantic struggles of someone asphyxiating.

Even when the pokeball stopped moving and lay motionless on the snow, my hands still shook.

.

.

The journey back was a blur. I stumbled down the snowy peaks, my hands nestled in Peesha's thick fur. I must have sent up the flare, because at some point Vadim came, and a skarmory to bring me back.

I remember almost falling through the doorway of my room. Fatigued past the point of hunger, I only managed to undo my outer layers and take off my boots before sinking into my bed.

I fell asleep with Articuno's pokeball cradled close to my chest.

.

.

Later that night I woke suddenly, feeling chilled to the bone. It was dark in my room, too dark to be morning yet.

 _The window,_ I thought hazily. I must have left it open a crack.

I tightened the latch and then collapsed back into bed.

In my dreams, I was frozen alive.


	2. FREEZE

Part Two - Freeze

* * *

The lobby of the Kanto broadcasting station was packed. I fought my way through the crowd to the information desk, where I was finally directed down a narrow hallway to a set of small, dimly-lit offices.

An eager-looking man with a large flop of curly black hair got up from his desk when I came in. "Katriona Kendall?" he asked. He lowered his voice to a secretive hush, "The trainer with the articuno?"

I nodded. It was obvious from this dank little room that the network hadn't taken my email seriously. I didn't blame them. No doubt they got twenty similar emails every week, claiming to have captured legends or discovered rare new pokemon.

"If you'll just place your pokeball here," the attendant said. I glanced at his name-tag: Steve.

The contraption he pointed to resembled an official trading machine, but there was only one slot for a pokeball. I silently complied.

The screen lit up with a loading circle. As we stood there, the circle continued to spin. I began to tap my foot impatiently against the floor. Then the circle vanished and words appeared on the screen: _Pokemon unknown_.

Steve's eyes widened. "Just a second," he said. He all but raced over to a phone on his desk and spoke a few quick sentences in undertone. He put the phone down and turned back to me. "It may be a while. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I'm fine," I said, though in truth I could have used a cup of hot tea. I'd had a nasty case of chills for the last two days from the mountain weather.

Finally, a woman walked in. She was dressed more professionally than Steve, in black slacks and a starched white shirt. Her name tag proclaimed her to be Supervisor Sandra. She was wearing a put-upon expression.

"You're the trainer with the articuno?" she asked me in a bored voice. "We'll have to see the thing, you know."

"Katriona Kendall," I said loudly. Her skepticism was rubbing me the wrong way. "Two-time finalist in the Hoenn Conference."

I saw a flicker of doubt cross her face. Elite trainers like me didn't usually go in for scams.

"And can you find me a containment room?" I continued, pressing my advantage. "I haven't let it out since capture and I don't know what its reaction will be."

"Of course," she said. Her tone was more respectful, clearly despite herself. "Come this way."

She led me to a large room, with walls made of the same reinforced plastic that pokeballs were composed of. I raised Articuno's pokeball, my stomach clenching.

As I clicked the release button, a huge shudder shook my body, so that I almost dropped the pokeball to the ground.

In a flash of blinding light Articuno appeared at the center of the room. I had thought her magnificence might be diminished outside of her native snows – I could not have been more wrong. Against the room's drab background she glistened an arctic blue, seeming to draw all light to herself. I noticed her size and power all the more in the room's closed confines.

"Holy Mew," Steve whispered. "It's Articuno, it really is." His colleague seemed unmoved, but her mouth hung ever so slightly open.

Articuno let out a great cry and swiveled her head to take in her surroundings. She sent a powerful blast of blue ice at the walls. For a moment, I thought they would shatter under the onslaught, but I'd underestimated the construction. When the light cleared, the walls gleamed with ice, but were otherwise intact. I noticed that Steve and Sandra were shooting me frightened looks. I was the trainer, after all. I was supposed to be in control.

I took a decisive step forward, the action drawing Articuno's gaze. I fancied I saw recognition flit through her eyes – her gaze seemed to harden and take on a cold, deadly heat.

"Do you see this?" I said loudly, raising the pokeball. "This means that I have captured you. I can recall you at anytime. If you continue to misbehave, I can put you in here and not let you out. Do you understand that?"

She continued to stare at me. It was hard to hold her gaze, and the cold radiating from her made my eyes water. I lifted my shoulders and firmed my stance, hoping this body language woluld communicate my authority. "There's no use acting up," I said. "Do you understand?"

Suddenly she dove at me. She was only several feet from my face when I managed to press the capture mechanism. A burst of angry red light swallowed her up.

In the subsequent silence, I could hear the heaviness of my breathing.

I turned to face Steve and Sandra, the pokeball clenched tightly in my hands. "Well," I said, too off-balance to moderate my tone, "Do you believe me now?"

"We'll have to run some more tests," Sandra said mechanically. "That's the network protocol." Then, abruptly, she smiled. "But, I believe you. And I want to thank you. My whole life, and I've never seen anything so stunning."

Steve didn't say anything. I'd thought vaguely, from his initial excitement, that he'd be jumping up and down like an excited growlithe. But he just looked at me with wide eyes, and was silent.

.

.

After that, everything moved fast. Kanto Live slotted me in for a prime-time interview that very night. I'd been backstage in broadcasting studios before, when they interviewed my mother, but I'd never been in the spotlight myself before.

My interviewer must have been around for a while. His hair was beginning to thin, and wrinkles were gathered around his eyes.

"Let me introduce Katriona Kendall, a trainer who has managed to actually capture an articuno!" he said, beaming at the studio audience, who let out an appropriate chorus of oohs and ahhs.

I relaxed slightly into my seat. I could tell even from that simple introduction that he didn't have any sacred notions about so-called legendary pokemon. The people of Yakuto spoke about Articuno as if there could be only one.

"Now, Ms. Kendall," the host said, turning to me, "you're not the first Ms. Kendall we've had here on air! I had the pleasure of sitting down with your mother, what was it now, ten years ago!"

My mother. Gloria Kendall, the meteorologist who saved Hoenn.

I forced a smile. "Yes, my mother is a great meteorologist. When disaster threatened Hoenn, she was able to use weather patterns to determine Kyogre's location," I recited mechanically, as my heart began to race. "Thanks to her, Champion Steven and the Elite Four were able to subdue Kyogre, and end the catastrophe that threatened our land."

I was eight, then, and thought it was the end of the world.

We were living on the edge of Fortree City at the time, walking distance from the weather institute. On a day that was no different from any other, an unusually heavy rain began to fall. And it didn't stop.

Mom took to sleeping at the weather institute, so I sat alone in our tree house, as the rain seeped in through the ceiling, and the house shook in the violent wind. When I looked outside, the world was a stream of cold gray water. It was as if I were under the sea.

Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. I ran out into the rain . . .

The weather institute was only a five minute walk away in normal weather. But this wasn't normal. The wind knocked me down into the mud – could it be called mud? It was more water than earth. The water seeped into my clothing, pulled me down. And the rain still beat down . . . it didn't seem possible that it would ever stop. It wouldn't stop until the water rose as high as the trees, until we were all drowned.

I felt that with such certainty in that moment. The water would fall and there was nothing we could do.

I don't remember how I dragged myself up out of the mud, through the endless waves of wet grass that slapped my face with their thin wet stalks, but finally I walked into the weather institute. It was so warm inside that my head started to spin. They brought me a chair. I was tracking mud everywhere. Finally they brought me Mom.

I told her all about it, then, about how the water was going to rise until it swallowed us up. But she didn't understand. She kept going on about rainfall. _It was localized, didn't I see, she'd compared the numbers, ran a statistical analysis against the average. It was abnormal, there could be only one explanation. But it kept changing, it was moving, it was on the move, surely I saw_ –

I don't think she'd slept in days. Her hair lay lank and oily and I could smell the coffee on her breath. She hardly sounded sane.

The buzz of the studio brought me back to reality. I blinked, and realized that I was shivering, even though the room was warm.

"Now Ms. Kendall," the host was saying, "when did you first dream of capturing Articuno?"

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and tried to put on a smile. "It was when I was very young. There was a painting at a museum – when I saw her I couldn't look away. I worked hard as a trainer, putting together a team I knew could handle some snow."

"You've been a finalist twice in the Hoen League, isn't that right?"

I nodded. That part of my life already seemed distant to me. I'd gone through the motions of being a trainer, but it had never brought me the same frantic joy I'd seen in some of my friends and rivals.

"Some say it's tantamount to blasphemy to capture a pokemon like Articuno," my interviewer said. I knew he didn't believe it.

"Pokemon are powerful forces," I began, pasting on a slightly condescending smile. The rest of my little speech ran on auto. I don't have any patience with people who try to sanctify the legendary pokemon.

If they are gods, they are uncaring ones. Better to call them curses.

Kyogre would have drowned the world . . . I knew that.

 _The water rose and there was nothing I could do._

I noticed suddenly that my hands were shaking. Hurriedly, I clasped them under the table, out of view from the camera.

My excitement had died. All I wanted was for the interview to end.

.

.

The next morning, I woke with a pit in my stomach. It was time to face Articuno again. I wasn't sure that I wanted to. The encounter in the containment room had shook me more than I thought.

I deliberated over a long breakfast, as Chester crunched coal in a steady rhythm at my side. It was a beautiful day out; the sun shone high in the sky.

The weather helped to decide me. I resolved to take a chance, and release her outside the confines of a containment room.

This time, Articuno's gaze locked on me from the beginning. The hatred in her eyes was icy and definite, like the sharp end of spear. She didn't try to immediately attack, though.

 _That's a good sign. That means she's had time to think._

"You should understand your situation by now," I told her. "If you attack me or anyone I have not told you to attack, I'll recall you. If you try to fly away, I'll recall you. Do you understand?"

She stayed motionless.

"Good." I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. At least she was capable of listening to sense.

.

.

I video-called Alana later that day. She looked the same as ever: clumps of reddish hair untidily framing her face, her wide green eyes lighting up when she saw me through the screen.

"Should I send Lucario back now?" I asked.

Alana shook her head. "Nah, I'll come get her myself. I want to see that Articuno of yours in-person. Everyone's talking about it, you know?"

"Really?" It was a funny thought. I'd expected the buzz that would follow – courted it, even – but now that it was happening I found myself curiously indifferent to the whole thing.

"Yeah. Your family hasn't called yet?"

I shook my head. "No. You know how it is, my mom has a busy life," I said, forcing some lightness into my voice.

"Right, she does that rad weather stuff. She couldn't make your league finals either, yeah?"

I nodded. That memory still made my stomach feel sour. Just before my final battle I'd received my mom's short message: "Sorry PHENOMENON has arisen must stay will tell all afterwards good luck."

She had, too. Told me all about the irregularity they'd noted in the ocean levels off-shore of Mauville, while I tried to feign some interest. I went to the victor's party that night and tried to have some fun. But the alcohol and clumsy groping that passed for amusement in Ever Grande didn't do much for me. I ended up spending the night curled up with Chester.

I tried to focus again on what Alana was saying.

"What's your plan from here?" she was asking "Train it up and sweep the Hoenn League?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "It sounds funny, but I didn't really think ahead that far."

Alana laughed. "It's all about the challenge for you, huh? Well, don't go thinking we'll be easy to take down if you do decide to compete this year. I've started a new training regimen . . ."

She launched into a lecture on her training strategy. I managed to maintain a polite smile, and luckily Nurse Joy called her away after a few minutes, before she could notice that I'd been tuning her out.

It was the first time I'd found her enthusiasm to be grating.

.

.

I woke up in the middle of that night, shivering. Those damn chills. I'd kicked off my blanket again.

As I leaned down to pull it back up, I noticed that my computer screen was blinking. I padded over to it and turned on the monitor.

A message from Mom!

I sat down heavily at the desk, the sound of my movement waking Chester up. He let out a huff of smoke and padded over to me.

"It's from Mom," I whispered, staring at the notification. A few minutes passed.

"Tor-kol," Chester said.

"I will, I just -" I looked away from the glaring light of the screen. "No, you're right, this is ridiculous."

I clicked the mouse and the video message began to play.

It had obviously been recorded in her lab. I could see the towering equipment looming in the background. My mother was in the slightly more comfortable sweater she wore when she worked late. (Which was almost always.)

"Hi Honey," Mom said. She frowned down for a moment at something on the screen and then looked back up. "I suppose it's late in Kanto right now. Anyway, congratulations! Come back to Hoenn as soon as you can, and bring the articuno – I've thought up some interesting simulations we can run together." She leaned forward, suddenly enthused. "Is it true it can create spontaneous blizzards?" She waved a hand. "Well, you can tell me about that later. Night, Doll!"

The screen went dark, and with it, the room.

I sat still, my limbs feeling strangely leaden. I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting her to say. It wasn't as if I'd just won some stupid little tournament, after all. I'd captured the spirit of winter itself.

That's what she'd called Articuno, I remembered suddenly. That first time, way back in Rustboro, in that old museum. After I had grown tired from walking, she'd taken me into her arms. Her sweater had been so soft and warm I'd almost dozed off then and there. "That's Articuno," she had said. "She's a god of blizzards, the spirit of winter itself."

The memory was striking in its clarity. I even remembered the smell of mareep fur from that old sweater of hers.

Chester bumped his head against my leg, and I blinked.

"Kol?" he asked.

I must have been sitting still for a while, staring into space.

"Kol, kol," Chester said worriedly. He stood up on his hind legs, trying to clamber into my lap.

I pushed him away. "Please just shut up, Ches," I said. He was too big for my lap, anyway.

I gathered my blanket around me and fell back into bed, wrapped up like a cascoon. Why was this room so accursedly cold?

.

.

I barely slept that night. When I woke up the next morning, it was with a splitting headache and a sense of grim resolution. I had the articuno. I might as well learn to battle with it.

I found an isolated patch of ground, far away from the other trainers and released Articuno.

"Right." I let out a breath. "Today we're going to begin your training. We'll start by going through your attacks. First, why don't you show me your ice bream?"

Articuno didn't move. She made no sign that she'd heard me.

I sucked in a frustrated breath through my teeth. "Ice beam," I said again, more loudly.

She looked at me with disdain.

"All right, if that's how you want to be." It wasn't as if I hadn't expected this. "Magneton, thunderbolt."

Aricuno took the thunderbolt silently, though her eyes closed in obvious pain. When the attack ended, she dove straight at me.

I recalled her without thinking. Then I paused. So she'd figured out attacking me was enough to get her back into the relative comfort of the pokeball. Clever bird.

Well, that wouldn't work if I wanted to train her. I stood for a moment, thinking. Metagross could keep me protected with a joint barrier of light screen and reflect, while Magneton punished her with thunderbolt each time she disobeyed. It wasn't an ideal set-up. It certainly didn't say much for my skill as a trainer. But I tired and cold, and past caring.

It was a hot day, with no clouds to obscure the sun. But even under two layers of sweaters, I wasn't feeling the heat. In fact, I was still shivering,

I looked down at the pokeball in my hands, a suspicion suddenly entering my mind. The ball was ice cold to the touch.

So it was Articuno who was responsible for this constant chill. I found myself laughing. Did she really expect me to release her over some little thing like that?

"Do your worst," I told the pokeball. I didn't feel so bad about the electric shock anymore. "I'll certainly do mine."

.

.

The next few days were not pretty. After several sessions, I got Articuno to release an ice beam on command. The training was exhausting, and I ended each session chilled to the bone. Not even a scalding shower could warm me up afterwards.

With each session, her pokeball grew colder, until I couldn't even hold it without gloves. The cold it radiated was burning, enough to peel away my skin upon contact. I worried that the ball would break open from the cold, but a call with the pokeball manufacturers helped reassure me. Pokeballs were nigh on indestructible, from the inside at least.

Training Articuno hurt – even under my thick winter coat, the cold burnt at my cheeks. I grew to hate the sight of her – the sweep of her wings, the spike of her crest, and the way her tail fluttered so freely in the faint breeze.

"You hate me don't you." I laughed, as we ended another session. She had cooperated today, but I could feel her gaze on me the whole time. "Well, go right on ahead and hate me. It's not helping you and it's not hurting me."

Really, she was a cruel pokemon. Her beauty was cold and spiteful, like the spear-point of an icicle.

"I'm not going to let you go," I told her, smiling. "Not because I get any pleasure out of this. Actually, I hate this almost as much as you do."

She stared at me, unblinking, but I thought I saw the faintest question in her eye.

"Why?" I said aloud. The cold was making my head feel strange; suddenly the memories were very close. "Let me tell you _about the rain . . ."_


	3. THAW

Part Three - Thaw

* * *

" . . . _They found me a chair to sit on_. Otherwise, the researchers at the institute ignored me. They flitted back and forth, talking in low murmurs. The snippets of conversation I caught were always incomprehensible to me.

I was placed by Mom's desk. She had forgotten about me too. Sometimes she'd absentmindedly run her hands through my hair. I hated that, but I couldn't say anything. It was as if I'd become mute. I watched the dance of the computer lights, stared at the flashing maps of Hoenn on the screens. Occasionally someone gave me coffee in a styrofoam cup or a protein bar that tasted like mud.

I don't know how long I sat like that. It was hard to tell if it was day or night. The lights never dimmed and the rain pounded on the roof in the same constant drumbeat. Maybe I was awake or maybe I was sleeping. It didn't matter either way.

I dreamed of the rain, only it had seeped into the institute, it was rising up the steps in a slow, inexorable progression. I tugged at Mom's sleeve, but she batted my hand away. She didn't see it. Even when the water was lapping at our feet, even when it rose up over my mouth, and I began to choke, she didn't turn around.

That was how the dream ended.

I woke up to the sound of heavy snuffling. It took me a few moments to figure out where the sound was coming from. Finally, I looked down. There was a torkoal on the floor. He was blinking up at me with big eyes.

I looked back at him curiously. No one else was paying us any attention. There were people all around, but it was like we were the only ones in the room.

'Hello,' I whispered, surprised to be speaking. My voice came out quiet and thin. The noise drowned it out.

'Koal,' he said, giving my legs a nudge.

'Do you need something?' I said, continuing to whisper. I liked the idea. I wanted to be able to help.

He let out a puff of smoke.

I took that as a yes. When he began to walk away with slow, heavy steps, I followed. No one tried to stop me. He led me to a bag in the storage room and nudged it. Then he stepped back and regarded me with hopeful eyes.

'You need something, in there?' I clumsily undid the pack. There were a few cans of pokefood and some tools. I even saw a firestone sparkling in one of the pockets. In a small burlap bag, I found a heap of coal. As I lifted one out, the torkoal began to snort excitedly.

'Is this what you need?' But that was a stupid question. Of course it was.

I placed a lump of coal on the floor. The torkoal began to munch on it at once. When he finished, I put down another piece. Then another. Smoke began to billow out from his back. He let out a satisfied rumbling, then rose on his hind legs and plowed into me. Surprised, I fell to the ground.

Searchingly, he shoved his face into mine and began to snuffle. I could smell the coal on his breath. The smell was oddly comforting, and his breath was hot and dry.

I began to run my hand along his shell. He must have liked that because he let out another content rumble.

I laughed, just a little, and then suddenly I couldn't stop. I was choking; water streamed down my face.

Through my tears, I could see that the torkoal looked worried. He picked up a piece of coal from the ground and tried to put it in my mouth. I shook my head. 'No, it doesn't work like that, you silly,' I tried to explain, ' – coal doesn't help me.'

Maybe it did help, though. My tears stopped, and was able to get up. The brightness of the institute seemed to hurt my eyes less. I wandered over to a window with the torkoal following me.

Outside, the rain sleeted down. 'It's not going to stop,' I said aloud, but I wasn't quite sure any more. I hugged Torkoal again, just to feel the reassuring warmth of his skin.

It was another two days until the rain stopped. Chester stayed with me the whole time."

When I finished the story, I realized that my eyes were wet. Articuno was still watching me. She hadn't moved the whole time I'd been speaking.

I didn't know what I had been expecting, but I felt different somehow – lighter. I'd never spoken about the rains before. I had never been able to find the words to explain that utter certainty and utter helplessness – that the world was going to drown, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

.

.

The next morning, Chester began to sniffle. When I put my hand on his forehead, it was cool to the touch. Giving him extra coal didn't help. He munched it eagerly, as if he were famished, but no smoke billowed out from his back, and his temperature did not rise.

A pit began to form in my stomach. "I'm going to have Nurse Joy check you out, huh, Ches?" I told him. "She'll know how to deal with this nasty cold you've got."

Chester gave a little moan in response. He tried to release a puff of smoke, as he often did to signal his agreement, but nothing happened, and he lowered his head, looking even more miserable.

It was twenty minutes before Nurse Joy came out from the examination room. I didn't like the look on her face, or the careful way she paused before speaking.

"Your torkoal has a problem common to fire-types," Nurse Joy said slowly. "Internal heat loss. It usually occurs when a fire pokemon has been frozen in battle and not defrosted quickly enough. Once a fire-type's internal flame goes out, it is very difficult to restart it. Fire-type pokemon have a particular process of homeostasis that allows them to maintain a drastically higher temperature inside their body than is outside. However, this works against us when trying to raise a flagging internal temperature."

Nurse Joy began to speak more quickly as she expanded on the science behind Chester's cold forehead and smokeless puffs.

I cut her off sharply. "But what does this mean for Chester?"

Nurse Joy swallowed. "Yes, well. It's not a rare problem, but your torkoal's case is unusually severe. I've only seen something similar in pokemon that have been caught in heavy snow for many days and then thawed out. Has your torkoal been exposed to anything like that?"

"No," I said angrily. "We were in very cold weather last week, but we were careful and he was fine after it. And he hasn't battled at all since then."

Nurse Joy shook her head, frowning. Then she sighed. "Come into the back with me."

I followed her. My mind seemed frozen. I didn't want to arrive at the conclusion all Nurse Joy's body language hinted at.

We arrived at a small room with fogged-up windows.

"We put Chester in the sauna room as soon as we took his temperature," Nurse Joy said. "A high external temperature can sometimes help in these cases."

I put my hand up to the glass and cleared the precipitation away. I saw Chester inside, curled up in a corner. He lifted his head when he noticed me and walked haltingly to the door.

"Hey Ches," I said softly, though I knew he couldn't hear me through the door. I turned to Nurse Joy. "Please just tell me the truth. Is Chester going to be okay?"

Nurse Joy looked away. Then she swallowed and met my eyes firmly. "Ms Kendall, we'll do what we can, but I would advise you to prepare for the worst. I don't know how your torkoal could have gotten into this condition. Possibly this is a new strain of virus that targets the homeostasis system. In that case, a cure might be possible. There are a few other treatment options – fresh magma can sometimes help. But considering Chester's current internal temperature, I couldn't confidently say he has more than a week left, unless something radically changes."

 _A week_. I pressed my face against the glass of the sauna room, feeling cold all over.

Nurse Joy was wrong. A virus hadn't caused this. I thought of Articuno's pokeball, back in my room, and the deadly cold it emanated. This was Articuno's little revenge.

Bile rose in my throat and it was all I could do not to throw up right there.

Then a thought struck me. If Articuno was the cause of all this, then all I needed to do was keep her away from Chester. Alana was arriving tonight to pick up Sorok. She could keep watch over Chester for me while I was gone.

 _It's fine. Chester's going to be fine_.

I took a deep breath to calm the thudding of my heart.

"I can go inside and visit him, right?" I asked Nurse Joy. She nodded.

Inside the sauna, I crouched down by Chester's side and ran my hand over his back. He shivered, and I withdrew my hand quickly.

"I'm going to fix this," I whispered to him. I didn't know what else to say.

I left the room quickly.

.

.

Back in my room, I combed my hair and made sure my eyes didn't look red. Then I opened a video call to my mother.

Predictably, no one answered. I almost rung off, but at the last second I decided to leave a message. Mom had always liked Chester, in her own vague way. Whenever she went off to Mount Ember for a conference she remembered to pick up some fresh coal for him.

"Chester's sick," I told the camera. "It's a problem with his internal temperature. It's – bad. They don't think he has longer than a week." It was strange to hear the facts like that, laid out coldly in my own voice. "There's something I'm going to try. It might work." I stared at the screen a little longer. My thoughts were sluggish today. I wondered if there was anything more that I should say.

Nothing came to mind. I ended the call and began to pack my satchel. A bullet train ran out of town in an hour. By morning, Articuno and I would be miles away.

That would help. It had to.

.

.

I tried to sleep on the train, but I kept shivering myself awake. Half awake and half in sleep, I nevertheless dreamed – vague, frenzied dreams, where the water rose up around us and then froze. The view outside the weather institute transformed into a glistening white world. I turned to Chester, wanting someone to hold onto, but he was lying motionless, covered by a thin coating of frost. I ran to my mother, trying to tell her, but when I took her hand, it was cold.

It was so cold.

.

.

The next morning I called Alana to check in on torkoal. I'd forgotten about the time change – when she answered, her hair was all over the place and she was in her pajamas. I must have woken her up.

"Morning Katriona," she said, with a sidelong glance out the window of her room, where it was still dark.

"Sorry about the time," I said mechanically. It was hard to feel that sorry for her, when I'd had so little sleep myself.

"No it's fine. It's probably good that you called – I should go down and check on Chester again. I sat with him most of last night, on and off. It's hard to stay in that sauna room more than fifteen minutes, you know?"

I nodded automatically, but in truth I hadn't even noticed the heat of the room when I'd been sitting with Chester. "How is he doing?" I asked "Has there been any change?"

Alana grimaced, and slowly shook her head. "No, Nurse Joy says his temperature is falling at a steady rate that's um, 'consistent with the lack of an internal flame.'" Her face crumpled. "I'm so sorry, Katriona. I know Chester's been with you for a long time."

She was a good friend, I realized suddenly, looking at her puffy and sleep-deprived face. I'd never really thought about it before.

"Chester will get better," I said, amazed to find my voice steady. "In the next few days, just wait, he'll get better. And when he's better, we'll go to Alola together." Alana had always wanted to go to Alola.

Her eyes widened. "Yeah," she said softly. "We will."

I nodded, but couldn't think of anything else to say. All I really wanted to do was get back under my blankets.

"Uh, Katriona?" Alana's voice made me pause. "I knew you're really worried about Chester, but take care of yourself, too, okay? Maybe it's the light and all, but you look really pale and kind of blue-ish."

I forced a smile. "I've had a bit of a cold myself," I said. "But I'm fine."

"Okay," Alana said, though I wasn't sure she believed me. "I'll call you if there's any change."

I wrapped myself up in my blankets and lay in bed, shaking. Articuno's pokeball was in my bag, buried beneath layers of thermal clothing, but I couldn't shake the sense that she was watching me, drawing satisfaction from my every shiver.

.

.

The hours passed excruciatingly slowly. I developed a cough and felt too ill to leave bed for the cafeteria. The center's chansey stopped by with some hot tea for me, but it did nothing to melt icy pit in my chest. I spent the next few days holed up in my room, only getting out of bed to answer Alana's calls.

Chester wasn't getting any better. The only comfort, according to Nurse Joy, was that he wasn't getting drastically worse. But I didn't need Nurse Joy to tell me that a fire-type pokemon could live only so long without an internal flame.

"Katriona," Alana said quietly. She was talking to me on tip-toes now. "Nurse Joy doesn't think Chester has much time left, unless we can get his flame relit. I know you had an idea to help him, but maybe you should come back. If he d-dies in the next day, you'll want to be there, won't you?"

She'd actually said it. I'd been wondering if she had the guts to.

 _If Chester died._ I imagined his breathing still and his body go cold, all without me.

Alana was right. I had to be there.

I had to go back.

.

.

It was getting hard to avoid my own thoughts. The fuzziness had lifted from me, and the world seemed brightly, startlingly clear. I blinked at the lights on the train, and shut my eyes tight against the glare.

Chester was dying, and it was Articuno's fault. It was my fault.

But there was still a chance. The hope flickered up in my heart like a tiny ember. Articuno had unleashed this cold on us. She could end it.

I needed Peesha to make my way from the train station to an empty field close to the pokemon center. Bracing myself against Peesha's reassuring bulk, I let out Articuno.

The cold grew more intense. My eyes watered and my face began to ache. It was hard to look Articuno in the eye, but I did.

"A bargain," I said. "You stop hurting Chester. When he gets better, I'll let you go."

She didn't move. I couldn't even tell if she'd understood me.

I wondered whether I'd ever seen anything in her eyes. Maybe it all had been my projection. Right now she seemed as emotionless and implacable as winter itself.

I knew suddenly that this silence was a refusal.

"Please," I said. "Chester – he never attacked you, he didn't help me when I captured you. He's innocent in this."

But when had the pokemon of legend ever cared about petty concepts like innocence or guilt?

What had Kyogre cared, when she almost drowned us all?

"What do you want from me?" I shouted at her.

It all seemed pointless suddenly – the dream that had led me to Yakuto's mountain. What had I been trying to do?

I'd captured a god to prove a point. I'd done it because I could.

None of that seemed to matter when I thought of Chester, growing cold in his little room.

I fell to my knees.

"Please," I said. I realized I was crying, though the tears froze on my face before they could travel down my face. I tossed Articuno's pokeball at her feet. "See? I've freed you. Help him."

Articuno slowly picked up the pokeball with one talon. She breathed on it, and ice began to spread across its surface. Then she clenched her talon, and the pokeball cracked.

Only then did she look at me. Her gaze pierced me like a blade of ice. The cold intensified into a loud red roar and the world began to spin.

Articuno rose into the air. The flash of the sun off her wings was the last thing I saw before my vision went black.

.

.

I woke to the sound of low humming.

"I think I saw her blink. Katriona? Katriona, are you awake?"

The voice was too loud. I grimaced and tried to put my hands over my ears, but they were curiously heavy.

I cracked open an eye and Alana's face swam into focus. Her face broke into a huge smile.

"You're awake!"

"What – " My voice sounded cracked and dry. It was hard to get out words. "What happened?"

"You had hypothermia. You must have passed out. Your mamoswine got you back to the pokemon center just in time, but you've been asleep the whole day." Alana frowned at me, her eyes bright with worry. "You could have told me you were so sick! I would have come and gotten you."

I heard the door open, but didn't have the energy to turn my head to see who had come in.

Alana looked up. "She's up, Ma'am!"

That's when I knew it must be a dream. My mom came into my field of vision. She was wearing her nicer sweater, and she'd gelled down her hair.

"Hi Honey," Mom said, patting my arm awkwardly.

I squinted up at her, trying to make sense of her presence. Then I realized I'd been forgetting something more important.

I shot up in my bed. "Chester! Is he okay, is he – alive?"

Alana beamed in response. "Chester's doing just fine! All thanks to Professor Kendell here. She arrived this morning, with this magma stone she'd gotten at Mount Ember – have you heard of magma stones before? They've got hot magma actually preserved inside. When Chester ate it, his flame re-lit, and his temperature's been going up since then. It's almost back to normal."

I sank back down in bed, staring from Alana's smiling face to Mom's accompanying nods.

"Can I – see him?" I managed to say.

Alana sprang to her feet. It occurred to me that she must have been sitting at my bedside a long time, and that Alana was someone better suited to motion than rest. "I'll get him! Nurse Joy said he's strong enough to leave the sauna for a little while." She looked from me to Mom, smiled, and raced out the door.

"She's a nice girl," Mom said, as the door swung shut. "You should have brought her by sometime."

"Brought her to the lab?" I said sharply.

Mom blinked owlishly at me.

I let out a long breath. My thoughts were still scattered and it was hard to think. "What are you even doing here?" I asked finally.

Mom ran a hand through her hair, looking surprised when it came back sticky. "Well, I got your message, Honey. And I'd just been having a fascinating conversation with a group of vulcanologists from Mt Ember about magma flow, so when you mentioned Chester's internal temperature problem, it occurred to me that a magma stone might do the trick. I was able to get up to the peak that afternoon, but it took me several days to actually secure a magma stone. The vulcanologists get a little possessive with them." Mom gave a small smile that reminded me how good she could be at getting the things she wanted. "Luckily, I wasn't too late with it."

I stared at her. She was unselfconsciously rubbing the gel off her hand onto her slacks. Somehow, it felt as if I was seeing her for the first time. _Weather and rain and magma flows_ , I thought. _That's what she knows how to deal with. Me, on the other hand . . . she doesn't have a clue, does she?_

"Mom," I said.

"Hm?" Mom said, looking up.

"Later, we need to talk."

"We're talking now, Honey."

"That's not what I mean," I said tightly. She was always like this. No matter how much she looked in my direction, she never looked at me.

 _When the water rose, you should have held my hand. You should have taken me in your arms and told me it would be all right, even if you were lying._

I stare at her, lacking words for the feeling burning through me.

Before I could say anything more, the door flew open. Alana stood on the threshold with Chester in her arms. When Chester saw me, he lifted his head and began to squirm.

"Hold on now," she said, laughing, and deposited him right on top of my chest.

Chester was heavy, and his full weight made it hard for me to breath, but I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around him, and he let out a content puff of smoke.

The familiar smell tore at something in me. I pressed my face into his side, feeling tears start to run down my face.

"Chester," I said in a muffled voice, "I love you."

Pressed under him, it hit me that for the first time in a long time, I felt warm.


End file.
